If You See Something Resembling a Shark in a River, Don't Fret. It's More Likely to be a Small Submarine Operated by Thieves

Last week I said we were going to the doctor for Jones' 4 month well-baby check-up ... and shots ... and I said I would update about Jones after that because I would have more info.  So, as promised, an update on the boo-boo:

At 4 months, Jones ...

• weighs 14 pounds and 5 ounces
• is 23 3/4 inches long
• eats 7-8 ounces every 3 1/2 to 4 hours (we go longer and longer stretches between feedings now) and is about to start solid foods (if Mommy can ever find an evening when she's not too tired to give it a shot)
• wears a size 2 diaper
• wears 0-3 months and 3 months clothes, but probably not for much longer
• can roll over both ways and, in fact, if you put him down on the ground or in his bed on his back, he will roll over within a minute or two and then wiggle and wiggle to try to get himself somewhere, and he likes to roll over in the night and sleep on his stomach or his side
• likes, but doesn't love, his gumdrop pacifier
• likes to go swimming (whenever we take him to the pool, any pool, if I try to get out and put him down for a nap, he gets really upset, even if he's tired or hungry and would be better off getting out of the pool ... he's all about hanging by the pool, just like Mommy and Daddy)
• laughs, especially if you are laughing and smiles big smiles all of the time (the lady who keeps the babies at our church's nursery told us this Sunday that he was one of the happiest babies she had ever seen ... she said, "I can barely get him to take a bottle or a pacifier for him smiling at me!")
• will have a conversation with you if you talk to him, including cooing and squealing
• likes his jumperoo, but still prefers his playmat as his number one activity (probably because it allows him to do his favorite trick:  rolling over)

• is starting to like stuffed animals ... he just smiles and smiles at them and pulls them close if you set one down near him
• is not a fan of nap time ... he has to be really tired to take a nap, and a swing or rocking him is really the only way to knock him out, especially when he's fussing due to tiredness (we joke that he is determined not to miss out on anything)
• watches Mommy and Daddy intently, following them around the room with his eyes and turning his head to see where they are going

Jones did fine with his shots, although he did cry louder and harder and longer this time than the first time.  He fell asleep in the waiting room while we were waiting the requisite 20 minutes to make sure he wouldn't have a reaction, and I really think part of the reason for his fussiness was that the AC at the clinic was broken, so it was nice and warm in the waiting room, and my little hot-natured baby was. not. happy. about it.  I say he did fine because he didn't have any averse reaction, no fever or swelling or anything.  We went home for the rest of the afternoon and he slept it off while Mommy cleaned the house and kept an eye on him.

This past weekend we ventured outside and broke in the new jogging stroller.  We were really all just sick of being indoors constantly, like vampires.  So, when the thermostat dropped to a cool and breezy 90 degrees, we sunscreened Jones up, cut the tags off the stroller and headed off on our once-usual route around our neighborhood.  It felt so good to be out and about, breathing the fresh (if humid) air and getting some honest exercise.  Fall is my favorite time of year, but I hesitate to say things like, "Summer is on it's way out!" because I don't want to jinx it, like some sort of bizarro-Punxatawney Phil ... which is silly, I know ... just because I admit how much I'm looking forward to fall doesn't mean that fall will take that much longer (like a watched pot).  Anyway, all of that because I am really looking forward to greater temperature drops and more out-and-about-ed-ness.

Being Able to Throw Your Voice Can Get Your Unskilled Assistants Out of Tight Jams

I turned 30 this weekend ... on Saturday, to be precise.  I wondered if I would feel different, no longer being a twenty-something.  The verdict:  yeah, I actually do feel a little different.  But that may be more because of becoming a parent this year than turning 30.  It's hard not to feel a lot more grown-up and, well, older, when you are responsible for a tiny, helpless little being.  Speaking of the tiny, helpless little being at our house, new pics for your enjoyment:

How can you not feel 30 when looking into that face?  Ha!  No, it's fine ... he was actually just mad because he was hungry, and I was taking pictures in an attempt to get everything ready for birth announcements ... I told Alan we had to get them out before the child turns one.  This is actually a pretty reasonable goal for us. 

Anyway:  30.  A milestone.  A different box on tax forms.  This is, apparently, when I'm supposed to start thinking about Botox.  I wouldn't do that, by the way.  Not that I have anything at all against plastic surgery.  Quite the contrary.  But I don't think I could willingly deposit botulism in my face ... however, you never know:  never say never.  I don't think I have to worry about that right now, though, and I've got genetics on my side because my mother has wonderful skin (because she takes good care of it and has passed that knowledge along to me).  I got the funniest birthday card from my friend Julie, it says:  Welcome to your thirties!  It's a lot like your twenties, except the hangovers are worse and you start buying sensible shoes."  Ha!  I find both of those statements to be completely accurate.  I wore heels the other day to work and was pretty miserable (although, PSA:  those Dr. Scholl's For Her High Heel inserts really do work - awesome).  Went back to flip flops the next day.  Much better (I mean, they are nice flip flops and, in my defense, I spend a fair amount of time on ladders at the courthouse vault and at our storage building, so heels are not a good idea unless I'm going to court or something).

What did we do for the big three oh?  One of my dear friends got married on Saturday so we went to the wedding and partied.  I told her it was so nice of her to throw me such a lovely birthday party.  We had a good time, got to hang out with our college friends that we don't get to see very often (well, not often enough, in my opinion).  Our friends that we stayed with, the Runnells, have a pool (and an almost-20 month old, Andrew Wesley, who is so cute.  He went around all weekend pointing at Jones and saying, "Baby?!") so some of our friends came over to their house and we all swam and hung out and just generally enjoyed eachother's company.  We're all getting older, getting married, having babies, and that makes it harder to hang out, but also more fun, since we're all pretty much in the same stage of life and can exchange fun stories and laugh about our kids and watch them play together.  They all got me a sweet card and my favorite petit fors from Rick's Bakery (if you're in Fayetteville, go by and get some petit fors, some Snickerdoodle coffee, a sausage roll, and a chocolate-whipped-cream-filled donut ... thank me later, after you're out of your sugar coma).  Aren't they cute?



On Friday, Alan sent me flowers and a cake (which, contrary to the popular belief about only children, I shared with everyone at my office):

I don't know why this is turned sideways, and I can't fix it.  My technological inexperience is well-documented, so just tilt your head and enjoy the pretty flowers in my favorite color:  yellow.

Half-eaten cake:  delicious.  Didn't have my camera with me when we cut into it and chowed down.

It was actually a pretty low-key birthday, and that's fine with me.  I'm trying to talk Alan into going to Jamaica in December to celebrate the birth of Jones, both of us turning thirty (I tried to plan a big surprise party for Alan for his thirtieth birthday in March, but then I got put on full time bed-rest and was actually in the hospital on his birthday, so the big throw-down got cancelled and he also had a low-key celebration), and our 5-year wedding anniversary.  So, if you see Alan around town, tell him he deserves a lovely vacation, mon (which, in all honesty, he does:  he's a good husband and dad and deserves a nice vacation).  See, doesn't this look like a man who needs to be sipping a Red Stripe on the beach?

What else, what else?  Oh, I know:  I dyed my hair (again).  Perhaps you will remember that I dyed it red back in November.  I liked it a lot, but red is a lot of upkeep.  That was in November, and then shortly before six weeks when I would normally go back to the hairdresser was when I first got put into the hospital and then was on part time (half day) bed rest.  So the hair appointment got pushed aside.  Then I went on full-time bed rest, then I was in the hospital, then I had a premature baby, then I was at home on maternity leave, and hair maintenance in general got pushed aside.  My sweet husband, noting that it had been awhile since my hair had been "done", bought me a gift certificate, so I took advantage of it.  Et voila:

It's very dark, no?  Here's the secret:  during all of the time that I was not dying my hair (the first time in many, many years), my hair grew in a lovely (if I do say so myself) shade of dark brown.  So, I just told my hairdresser to match the color to my roots that had grown in after the red (and to cut a few inches off (in layers) ... truth be told I was looking pretty mangy), and this is the resultant color.  I like it.  I like, too, that it promises to be easier to maintain.  But, I mean, you know:  who knew?!  After all of the years and $$$$$ maintaining blonde hair, there was a pretty color underneath just waiting for its time to shine.

I know y'all are dying to know what the boo-boo has been up to, so here's a little taste but I'll do a bigger post later on this week because we're going to the doctor for his four month well-baby check-up and I'll have more information.  One of our new favorite things is the jumperoo:

One of our other new things is rolling over both ways to sleep on our stomach.  Little Bit just rolls every which way - if you put him on the floor on a quilt or his playmat, he's rolling over.  Lay him down at night in his bassinet, he rolls over and sleeps on his side or his stomach.  This, of course, makes me a bit of a nut because of all of the SIDS stuff you read about, but then I read something that says that once they are able to roll over both ways, the SIDS risk is greatly diminished.  And it 's not like I can stop him anyway, nor do I blame him.  I sleep on my stomach and Alan sleeps on his side, so of course he wants to be like Mommy and Daddy.  I mean, look how comfortable he looks:

And, speaking of sleeping, it's that time on Sunday evening when Alan and I go to bed and watch The History Channel and The Discovery Channel and wind down and gear up for the coming week.  So, happy Sunday, folks!

Runaway Horses Can Sense if You Are Kind and Will Slow Down

Y'all, seriously, the heat is turning my brain to mush.  I haven't posted anything because I just cannot think of anything to say ... I can barely hold a conversation with anyone at this point. 

I officially went back to work this week.  I complain a lot about being self-employed because it is stressful, but it did allow for me to take more than 12 weeks off for maternity leave.  However, all good things must come to an end and so I went back to work "for real" this week.  I've had some test runs, letting the boo-boo go to my mom and dad's for the whole day (I would go in and work then ... while I have been on maternity leave, I've been going in periodically for whole days and half days throughout, so it's not a complete shock to the system), and survived just fine.  It's almost better now that I'm working all day long - I'm distracted, at least.  However, just because I'm distracted (and busy) doesn't mean that I don't keenly miss the little guy all day long.  Luckily, my mom is doing us a favor right now and keeping him, so I'm certainly not worrying about him all day since he's with Nana, and she sends me text updates so I know what he's up to.  We're going to do Mother's Day Out when the school year starts, and then being self-employed will come in handy again since I can come and go as I please and don't have to keep specific office hours, so we'll get to spend afternoons together.  So, it's sort of like I'm a part time SAHM, but not really.  I'm just thankful that my mom lives close by and is willing to help us out right now - daycare is expensive, yo!  She told me that Jones rolled over back to belly today, so I'm hoping I can get some video of that soon and let everybody see how advanced my boy is.

So, me going back to work is the only real "news" we've got around here.  We barely leave the house because of the heat, so I can't report any interesting outings.  We had a good weekend - friends came over Saturday night and we visited and played spades and had a delicious cookout.  Sunday we went to North Little Rock (Dog Town!) and went to Alan's hometown church with his parents and showed off Jones - Grandma Betty and Grandpa Richard were so proud and we got tons of compliments on our progeny.  And can you blame anybody for thinking this is the best looking baby ever:

Love the boots and hat!  This was taken before a visit to my grandparents' house in Van Buren County.  My grandparents owned and operated a cattle ranch for many years (now, obviously, they're retired) and are very "Western", so I thought they would get a kick out of this outfit ... plus, it's cute, I don't care who you are.

Tummy Time!  I try to get fancy with the camera sometimes and do black and white pics.  I'm practicing with it right now because I want to take some to use for Jones' birth announcement ... it's not too late for a birth announcement, right?

The Harry Potter movie blew the box office away this weekend.  I'm hoping we can go see it in the next week or so ... I like to go when the theatre is not totally packed, and it will probably still be pretty crowded this weekend.  And, on the topic of Harry Potter, more of my favorite passages, this time from Book 4, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire:

"Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come.  There was no hope ... no help to be had.  And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason:  He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort's feet ... he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible ..."

"At that moment, Harry fully understood for the first time why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared.  The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible than Harry could have ever imagined.  There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles.  There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat."

"Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry.  He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother.  The full weight of everything he had seen that night seemed to fall in upon him as Mrs. Weasley held him to her.  His mother's face, his father's voice, the sight of Cedric, dead on the ground all started spinning in his head until he could hardly bear it, until he was screwing up his face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of him."

"'Remember Cedric.  Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.  Remember Cedric Diggory.'"

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

You Can Never Really be Yourself and "Let Your Hair Down" if You're Sporting a Wig

Well, not a lot of publish-able stuff happening around the Ward household.  The heat is making me lethargic, both  mentally and physically.  When I first found out I was having a baby in May, I had all of these visions of taking him on walks with the balmy spring air spurring us on.   Apparently, that's not in the cards for babies born in the Spring or Summer of 2011 because it is too hot to walk down our driveway, much less go for a walk in our neighborhood.  So we're hanging out in the house a lot.

So, we're one week away from the last Harry Potter movie!  Get excited, right?!  I'm looking forward to it, and looking forward to seeing all of the Harry Potter fans lined up at the Picwood to buy tickets.  We probably won't go see it on opening night, but hopefully we'll see it within a couple of weeks of opening.  On that note, an excerpt from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban that is a favorite of mine, as promised:

"'I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry,' [Dumbledore] said gently.  'He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it.'

Harry looked up at him.  Dumbledore wouldn't laugh - he could tell Dumbledore ...
'I thought it was my dad who'd conjured my Patronus.  I mean, when I saw myself across the lake ... I thought I was seeing him.'
Harry shook his head.
'It was stupid, thinking it was him,' he muttered.  'I mean, I knew he was dead.'
'You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us?  You think that we don't recall t hem more clearly than ever in times of great trouble?  Your father is alive in you, Harry, and shows himself most plainly when you have need of him.  How else could you produce that particular Patronus? [...] You know, Harry, in a way, you did see your father last night ... You found him inside yourself.'"

And now, as always, more pictures of our little wizard:

Look how much he's grown!  Thought I'd put these side by side so everyone can marvel at Jones' growth!  He's a little chunk now ... we went to weigh-in last Friday and he weighed 11 pounds and 12 ounces, which is more than triple his birth weight (in under 3 months)!  I decided we'll only go to weigh-in once a month now, since he's obviously not having any problems gaining weight, and it's kind of a lot of work to get up to St. Mary's for weigh-in every week.

The grey onesie with the tie and glasses is probably my most favorite outfit that I received for Jones.  You can't see it, but it's got a dollar bill on the side of it, to the right of the glasses.  I call it Jones' "banker onesie" ... anyway, it's super cute.  I'm going to put him in it a lot so we get lots of wear before he grows out of it.

In the spirit of Harry Potter (and because, honestly, I can't really think of anything interesting to talk about right now ... I'm telling you, the heat is getting to me), enjoy (and get excited!):

The Key to Trick Horseback Riding is Precise Timing

I hesitated to post anything today since I don't really have anything all that important or interesting to say (at least I don't think so), but I'm making a concentrated effort to post regularly, so here we are.  I'm including lots of cute pictures in lieu of my usual wordiness ...



The fam!

 

Love this onesie, from Cody and Leslie ... I love monogrammed things!



You know I love that his onesie and the receiving blanket match ... this is also a good shot to show off what Alan refers to as Jones' "vulcan ears" ... he does look a little Spock-like in this shot ...

I took Jones to my office today.  He was a good boy, my little office assistant.  Didn't cause any trouble, and only got upset once, when it was time to eat and it took me longer than he thought it should to get his lunch together.  I loved his outfit today:  the onesie is a gift from my friends Cody and Leslie, and it is just precious, no?!  He also had on sneakers - I love how cute he looks when he has on shoes. 



I love all of his smiles!  This is after he threw a big fit about my slowness in getting his lunch to him.  Once he ate, he was a happy boy, as evidenced by this picture.



Being an office assistant is hard work.

 

Sleeping on the job!

 We're still working our way through the Harry Potter series.  So, as promised, a favorite excerpt from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets:

"'So I should be in Slytherin,' Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's fact.  'The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it - '
'Put you in Gryffindor,' said Dumbledore calmly.  'Listen to me, Harry.  You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students.  His own very rare gift, Parseltongue - resourcefulness - determination - a certain disregard for the rules,' he added, his mustache quivering again.  'Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor.  You know why that was.  Think.'
'It only put me in Gryffindor,' said Harry in a defeated voice, because I asked not to go in Slytherin ...'
'Exactly,' said Dumbledore, beaming once more.  'Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle.  It is our choices,  Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.'"

I was watching TV the other night, and I watched something on the TV Guide channel, of all things, that was a countdown of the most unforgettable series finales.  It was actually a pretty good list, and one of my favorites that it listed and showed was the last episode of The Tonight Show, Johnny Carson's last night hosting it.  I have really fond memories of Johnny Carson and The Tonight Show.  When I would go and stay with my Grammy and Papa in the summer (one day, so the story goes, I up and told my parents that I wanted to go and stay at Grammy's "for 18 days" ... I don't know where 18 days came from, it probably just sounded like a really, really long time to a little kid.  Anyway, thus started the tradition of me going every summer up to Grammy and Papa's for 18 days ... those were really wonderful times ...), we would always stay up late and watch The Tonight Show.  I felt like such a big girl, getting to watch the grown up show.  And, you know, Johnny Carson was the best.  Anyway, here's the clip ... it brings a little tear to my eye, it's a really touching moment:

Spike Heels Come in Handy When it is Necessary to Break Glass

I've mentioned that I'm reading the Harry Potter series.  Make that re-reading.  It's been years since I first read them, and I've forgotten how lovely the writing is - obviously, J.K. Rowling is very talented, as is evidenced by the stellar success of the series (I think referring to writing as "lovely" is one of the highest compliments you can give ... you know what I mean?  Sometimes writing is just ... it's lovely, there's no better word for it).  Alan and I also watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1 on Sunday night.  We both thought it was really good, and it even gave me a nightmare (not that I think giving someone a nightmare is a sign of a good movie ... but I guess it does prove that it stuck with me).  I think Part 2 comes out in July, so hopefully we'll be able to go see it in the theatre.  The theatre in Russellville, the Picwood, amazes me.  Seriously, I've never seen such a popular place in a small town, and I grew up in a small town.  You can't stir the people with a stick at the Picwood on Friday and Saturday night.  I remember when Alan and I first moved to Russellville, and we didn't really know anybody, we decided to go to the movies one night, and we arrived to see a line of people camped out outside the theatre for the next Harry Potter movie that was opening (I don't remember which one).  People were dressed up, they were really into it!  At the time, Alan and I were still missing NWA and we were still in the cynical yuppie mode that is au courant up there, so we laughed at these people, but in retrospect it really warms my heart and makes me smile (in a non-cynical way):  it's nice to see people enjoying something in such a pure way.  I love going to the movies, but we rarely go.  We prefer to Netflix it unless it's something we really want to see ... the last movie I watched in the theatre was True Grit (very good, love me some Jeff Bridges:  "The Dude!").

All of this about Harry Potter to say that I thought I'd quote some of my favorite portions of the books as I go along.  I read them aloud to Jones sometimes when he's not feeling the play mat or the swing, and is tired of tummy time and tired of me just hanging out with him (yesterday we danced to my iTunes library ... he loved it!  I'm going to have to try and get some video of his dance moves (I make him dance sometimes ... hey, he smiles a lot so I think he enjoys it as much as me)).  He just looks up at me, very intently.  I think he likes the sound of my voice, and I think he just likes looking at my face.  Anyway, on to the quotations ...

From Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (the first book):

"'I don't need a cloak to become invisible,' said Dumbledore gently.  'Now, can you think of what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?' 
Harry shook his head.
'Let me explain.  The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is.  Does that help?' 
Harry thought.  Then he said slowly, 'It shows us what we want ... whatever we want ...' 
'Yes and no,' said Dumbledore quietly.  'It shows us nothign more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.  You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you ... However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth.  Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what is hows is real or even possible ... It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.'"

"'But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?'
'Your mother died to save you.  If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love.  He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark.  Not a scar, no visible sign ... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.  It is in your very skin.  Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason.  It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.'"

See?  Lovely, right?

And now, a picture of my little wizard (I say that because Alan calls this sleeping gown Jones' wizard outfit):

Monday was Jones' two month check-up.  He is doing well, gaining weight like a champ.  Dr. Harrison said if you adjust his age for prematurity, he's right where he should be, and he's pleased with all of the progress.  The two month check-up also meant, (duh-duhn-duhn) SHOTS!  Broke my heart a little, he let out such a pitiful wail when they stuck him.  But he did really well, truly.  He wailed a bit, but as soon as the nurse let me pick him up and I snugged him up against me, he calmed down right away.  Actually fell asleep in the waiting room while we waited to make sure there was no reaction.  He slept pretty hard the rest of the day, but he doesn't seem to be holding a grudge:

Check out those cute bandaids - they have the Tasmanian Devil on them!  I mean, I hate that he had to go through getting his shots, but I have to admit I think this picture of Jones and his boo boo are pretty cute (easier for me to say since he took it so well ... probably wouldn't be so blase if he had had a reaction to the shots or gotten really ill afterward). 

How about an update on Jones, like I used to do for my pregnancy?

Jones at 10 Weeks

Jones weighs 10 pounds and 1 ounce and is 21 1/2 inches long.  His head is 38 1/2 inches around.  I don't know what percentile he's in because Dr. Harrison didn't say ... I think because we're not focusing on that right now because it's not really accurate due to his prematurity.  He is drinking 5 ounces every 3 to 4 hours.  He has long periods of wakefulness between 10:00 a.m. and 2:00 p.m. and again from about 5:00 to 9:00.  His favorite toy is the activity mat, and he likes, but doesn't love, his gumdrop pacifier.  Right now his favorite playmate is Mommy and his favorite game to play with her is to be wiggled around on her legs ("dancing").  He has just switched from newborn clothes to 0 - 3 months and I am really excited about that because he has some really cute outfits for 0 - 3 months, and I can start putting little shoes on him (so get excited about the pictures to come!).

So, this obviously isn't a Wordless Wednesday post (perhaps I should do a Wordy Wednesday post, seeing as I am, obviously, a fairly wordy person), but here are some pics that are un-related to this post that I thought you would enjoy:

My Favorite Boys:  Daddy, Augie, and Jones 

Daddy and the Wiz (remember that great 80s movie, The Wiz?  Anybody, anybody?  Bueller, Bueller?)

Snoozin' like a big boy in mom and dad's bed ...

Keep Your Ice Skates Sharpened. You Just Might Be Called Upon to Impersonate a Figure Skater

In my last post I commented that parenthood changes your perspective on just about everything.  For example, a good's night rest means that of the three times that I got up to feed Jones in the middle of the night, it took no longer than an hour and he went right back down afterward, allowing me to get at least 6 hours of sleep (I'm looking forward to the day when that 6 hours isn't in chunks).  Other epiphanies I've had since becoming a mom:

1.  Fractions are important. 

I know everybody remembers studying fractions and learning how to add, subtract, multiply and divide, and I know that almost everybody uttered the words, "When am I ever going to use this in real life?"  The answer:  have a baby and feed him formula, and you'll learn real quick about the usefulness of fractions, and the usefulness of elementary school math in general.  Daily I stand over the sink and think to myself, "Okay, I need to make 8, 5 ounce bottles ... that's 40 ounces of formula.  It's one scoop of formula for every two ounces, so that would be 10 scoops.  Then I have to fortify it (to make it more caloric, since our goal is still for Jones to gain lots of weight and catch up) - that's 1/4 teaspoon for every ounce.  So, if I'm making 40 ounces, multiply that by 1/4, that's 10, so that's ..."  You see where I'm going with this.  When you're tired, this becomes extra challenging.


"Math makes my head hurt!"



2.  Three Men and a Baby had a lot of truths to it. 

For example, the scene where Peter is telling his "girlfriend" Rebecca about feeding the baby:  "It says, 'Feed - every 2 hours'.  Does that mean 2 hours from when I start or 2 hours from when I finish because I'm doing 2 hours from when I start and I'm feeding her all the time?!"  It can seem like that sometimes, and we're on a 3 hour schedule (for what it's worth, the answer to Peter's question is 2 hours from when you start), which occasionally goes to 4 hours, depending on what kind of day we're having. 

I have also lived out the scene where Jack takes a shower with the baby (not as icky on screen as it is in print).  In fact, I lived out that scene this very morning - I had popped Jones down onto the play mat in my bathroom while I took a shower.  When I get out, I noticed that he had spit up a little.  So I picked him up and took him over to our bed to lay him down and change his outfit.  It was at that moment that the little guy chose to finish spitting up, and it was a big one - projectile, going in all directions, including all down the front of me (remember, I was just out of the shower so, in the risk of giving everybody TMI, that means that I didn't have any clothes on ... which is really just as well, when you think about it), the front of him, and onto the part of the bed that I was standing near.  I thought about it for a minute, looked at me, covered in regurgitated baby formula (which smells about as awesome as you might think, being a milk product), looked at my baby, covered in formula and wailing (it was all over him - in his diaper, in his hair ... it was pitiful), and decided, "Well, necessity is the mother of invention.  What we both need is to be hosed off, and the best way I can think of to do that is the shower."  So I stripped him down, grabbed my recently discarded bath towel, and headed back to the shower with an extra passenger.  It actually went really well ... I think Jones liked it, really, and who doesn't like being clean?  So, he's currently in outfit number 3 on the day, and we've eaten our 4th bottle of the day, and I'm watching him to make sure this one doesn't come up as well (he's asleep in the swing at the moment), and the bedsheets and play mat are in the washing machine. 

I also like the scene where Michael turns to Peter and says, "I think she did a doodle and it's your turn to change her."  Peter replies, "I'll give you a thousand dollars if you'll do it."  I know that feeling.  Sometimes it seems like you just won't be able to take another dirty diaper, but you do, and of course it's fine. 

I think the last scene that I can think of that has been applicable to our lives recently is where Peter is reading aloud to Mary, and it's Sports Illustrated, a recap of a vicious boxing match.  Michael comes in and says, "What are you reading to her?"  Peter replies (in a sort of soft, gentle voice, the kind of voice you would use to read a bedtime story to a baby), "It doesn't matter what you read.  It's the tone you use.  Now where was I?  'The Champ began the next round like a man possessed."  I feel like that when I read aloud Harry Potter to Jones ... he has no idea about anything.  He does like the sound of my voice, though ... at least I think he does ...

3.  Absolutes are not your friend.

I actually feel like I have made an effort for quite some time now not to say anything along the lines of, "I always ..." or "I will never ..." or "My child always ..." or "My child will never ..." because this is a sure-fire way to guarantee that you or your child will not always whatever and that you and your child will definitely end up doing or saying whatever it is you swore you would never do or say.  I never wanted the baby to sleep in the bed with us, because I didn't want to get a bad habit started.  There have been occasions (although they are happening less and less frequently now, as Jones gets bigger and older) where, exhausted and at my wit's end, I put the baby in the Boppy Lounger, laid him in between me and Alan at the head of the bed, and we all went to sleep like that.  So, you know, I don't think I ever actually said, "I will never let my child sleep in the bed with me", but I was aiming toward that and now look at me.  This is also why I try not to say things like, "My child will never throw a temper tantrum in a restaurant."  Because I'm sure it will happen, no matter what preventative measures we take or how sweet we think our boy is, and because saying something like that guarantees it will happen at a time that makes it ten times worse (like, in front of the people who heard you declare that your child will never throw a temper tantrum in a restaurant, at a nice restaurant, where you are celebrating some milestone of some sort with lots of people around to witness your humiliation).



4.  Things that never used to bother you will start to bother you and things that you would previously have believed would have bothered you have no effect on you. 

Case in point:  the spoiled labradors.  Love them.  They are family.  I never used to care a thing about their hair - I just swept and vacuummed and went on with it.  And I still do ... but now their hair makes me a little crazy.  I sweep and vaccuum a lot more.  And nothing makes me crazier than finding a hair on the corner of Jones' mouth, or by his eye or something.  It bothers me more than him, I think, but still ... but don't worry, we're not going to be those people who banish their pets outside when they have a baby.  The spoiled labradors are family and always will be.  I'll just be a very OCD cleaner for awhile.


Who, us?  Shed?  Nnnnnooooooo ....

Also, the spit-up story told above.  The spit-up didn't bother me at all.  Didn't gross me out or anything - my primary concern was to comfort the baby and see that Jones get cleaned up and happy as soon as possible.  And you would've been hard pressed to get me to believe a year ago that having what is essentially soured milk thrown all over me right after I get after the shower wouldn't bother me, but there you go.



That's all I've got for now, although I'm sure there are more to come, and I'll share them when I recognize them as the epiphanies that they are.  Parenthood, really, is one big epiphany.